


Sucker Love

by CLeighWrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Audio-Voyeurism, F/M, Incestual Feelings, Jealous Sam Winchester, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Murder, Mutual Masturbation, Patricide, Pining Sam Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Psychopathic Sam Winchester, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Touch-Starved, Underage Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-10-12 07:38:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17463347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLeighWrites/pseuds/CLeighWrites
Summary: Sam and Dean were raised drifting from town to town, left to their own devices regularly by their father who left them to hunt and kill monsters. Little did he know that he was raising two monsters himself. In his own way, Sam is in love with his brother, who has his own ways of dealing with their life. John starts to act suspicious of Sam, but Sam isn’t about to let anything come between his brother and him, not even their own, worthless, father.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fills my dark fic square on my kink bingo card, heed the warnings!  
>  _~Sucker love is using someone for sex until you get bored of them~_
> 
> _“Sucker love a box I choose_  
>  No other box I choose to use  
> Another love I would abuse  
> No circumstances could excuse”  
> \- Placebo, Every You Every Me

“Mmm, yes, Dean. Yes!” the slut screamed from the other side of the door.  


Dean had kicked Sam out about forty-five minutes ago so he could ride their current town's bicycle. Sam had brought his science book outside with him to work on his homework, but he didn't make it past their motel room's window before he stopped and sat down. As jealous as he was of all the girls Dean fucked, he could never pass up an opportunity to hear the moans and grunts of his big brother as he came inside of them. Sam was a romantic like that.  


Dean was his first kiss, for educational purposes only, of course. Dean was the first one, other than himself, to jerk him off. As far as Sam was concerned, Dean really was the only one. The only one that mattered anyway.  


Their father had started to get suspicious of their time spent alone together. Maybe he had caught Sam staring one too many times as Dean would be getting dressed after a shower, or maybe he had woken up to Sam wrapped around Dean as they slept. None of that bothered Sam, but the way their dad would fight with him was becoming an issue.  


Dean, ever the obedient little soldier-boy, would do whatever it took to appease the man, but would try to keep them from fighting. Sam was never quite able to put anything before his brother, which had grown to include their predominantly absentee father.  


_“Sam's old enough to stay on his own now; you should be coming with me. Help me on this hunt.” John had been looking directly at Sam the entire time he was talking to Dean._  


_“Dad, he's still in school, people will notice if he's living by himself in a motel room,” Dean had argued._  


_John had only glanced at Dean before fixing his gaze back on Sam. Sam gave as good as he got, his glare never wavering, nor the smirk that accompanied it._  


_“It's just a salt and burn, you don't need me anyways,” Dean had added in an attempt to break the mounting tension in the room._  


_John couldn't argue that, so he placed his hand on Dean's shoulder and looked him straight in the eye as he delivered his warning, “Watch out for Sammy.” Then he was gone._  


That had been two days ago. Dean had been a little more distant than usual with Sam after their dad left this time. He slept in the other bed, closed the door to a crack when he showered, and didn't hack the TV to pick up porn their first night alone like he typically did. Their dad had put a rift between them; Sam had to fix it before it was too late and he lost Dean for good.  


The sound of choking called Sam's attention back into the room and his dick stood at attention as he strained to hear the struggle he knew was going on. The scrape of nails on the cheap motel sheets, the soft drumming of fists on hard, toned skin, the final grunt of Dean's orgasm, and finally, the limp thump of a lifeless arm on the mattress.  


Knowing it was safe for him to reenter the room, Sam folded his papers and pencil into his book and stood. Before he could open the door he heard the water running, then the unmistakable sound of the Impala down the street.  


Sam burst into the hotel room, holding back his scream, “Dean!”  


“Sammy, what the-” he stopped himself, listening.  


“Dad,” Sam hissed, turning to the bed to find the bicycle laying haphazardly across the mattress, arms splayed out, legs still spread open. “Dammit, Dean.”  


Dean's face went chalk-white as he stared at Sam, eyes as wide as saucers. “Fuck, Sammy.” He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the girl's body. “Fuck!”  


The Impala pulled into the parking lot and Sam sprung into action. He ran to the bed, picking the slut's clothes up as he went, throwing them on top of the girl before pulling the discarded comforter over her and turning her head on the pillow; she could be sleeping.  


Dean's eyes looked like his heart was going to break, just like his voice did, “Sammy.”  


There wasn't time for anything else as the motel room door swung open and their father stepped in. Dean stood ramrod straight, wide eyes glued to his commander. Sam had taken a seat in one of the chairs at the table and opened his book back up to where his homework was still waiting to be finished.  
John's eyes scanned the room and landed on the girl tucked into his own bed. “You boys have a party while I was out?” He leveled his gaze on Dean.  


Dean tried for a guilty grin, but failed miserably. “I met her down playing pool last night.” Truth, “We didn't get a lot of sleep; I didn't have the heart to wake her up.” Lie.  


“Yeah, well, you should know better than to do that sort of shit with Sammy around.” John took a step toward the bed and Dean shot a panicked look to Sam.  


“I'm sixteen, not twelve. It's not like I've never seen boobs before,” Sam sneered, succeeding in drawing their father’s attention away from the fresh corpse.  


“That's not the point.” John's voice was hard, and his eyes dangerous when they turned on Sam.  


“Dad,” Dean interjected, as always trying to take the brunt away from Sam, which unfortunately, was becoming a regular occurrence.  


“What are you even doing here, need a shower before you hit the bar?” Sam was seething, matching John's tone.  


“You watch your mouth, son,” John yelled. He jerked as if he'd done something wrong, then turned to look at the girl.  


Sam winced, knowing that anyone would have stirred at their outbursts, drunken slut or not. The girl remained unmoving. Dean took a step forward when John reached out to put his hand on the girl's shoulder.  


He barely laid his hand on her when he knew that she was gone and jerked it back. He looked to Sam and then launched himself at Dean. “How could you do this?” Sam heard the crunch of bone as John's fist made contact with Dean's face.  


“Dad!” Sam yelled from the other side of the room.  


“You fucking killed her! Sammy's here!” Punch after punch landed on Dean's bloody swollen face as John pummeled him.  


Dean wasn't even trying to fight back, and Sam couldn't take anymore. He dug through his father's army duffel and pulled out his own handgun. It had been his birthday gift that year, but John didn't trust him to keep it himself. The metal was cold in his hand, and the white marble handle shone in the little sunlight that was streaming in through the tacky motel curtain. With practiced hands he checked the cartridge, cocked the barrel, and took aim.  


“Stop!” His voice was steady, and he had thankfully not cracked when he said it; his voice still in the process of maturing.  


John stopped mid-swing, turning his head to see the gun aimed at him, and let go of Dean. Sam spared a quick glance as he watched his brother slump to the ground, spitting blood from his busted-open lips.  
John turned slowly with his palms up, facing Sam. “Now, Sammy.”  


“Don't placate me!” Sam's voice was full of rage, but his hands were steady and his aim was true.  


“Just think about what your doing, son.”  


Dean groaned from his place on the floor as he tried to crawl away. Sam had never seen his big brother afraid of anything in his life. That alone was enough to set Sam's resolve.  


“We're in a small room in a crowded motel. Even if you did shoot me, where could you go? What would you do?”  


“Sa-my” Dean coughed, his eyes were pleading, probably for him to not shoot.  


Sam kept his eyes on his father and the gun aimed while he reached over and grabbed the pillow out from under the slut's head. He doubled it over and held it in front of the gun. “We're gonna salt and burn your bones.”  


Then, just as John lurched forward, Sam squeezed the trigger, just like his late father had taught him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean clean up the evidence of their crimes and Sam longs for Dean’s touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Hybristophilia** , a paraphilia in which sexual arousal, and attainment of orgasm, are responsive to being with a partner known to have committed a crime—such as murder._  
> This part fills my Touch Starvation square for my @spnkinkbingo card.

_Either no one had heard the shot, or they thought it had been something else and wrote it off. There were no knocks on the door, nor flashing lights while they were waiting for night to fall. They had wrapped both bodies in the dingy motel sheets, laid them out on the bed, and waited._

Dean had hardly looked at Sam, and he had sat on the other side of the bed from him. Sam had tried to clean and treat Dean’s wounds, but he had just waved him off and closed the bathroom door in his face. Sam hadn’t understood why Dean was acting so distant. Their dad had been beating the life out of him and Sam had saved him, so what had he done wrong? 

They had only had to wait a few hours until it was dark enough for them to be able to move the bodies to the car, then find a clearing they could build a pyre in to salt and burn them. Sam didn’t know anything about the slut, if she had any family that would miss her, or a job that would call in a missing person’s report; it was best to get rid of as much of her as they could. 

After they felled the trees and built a pyre big enough for the two bodies, Sam soaked the wood in accelerant and laid them out. Dean salted the linen that wrapped his latest victim and their father before striking and lighting a book of matches. Sam watched as his big brother stared into the flames before he tossed the book onto the pyre, an unreadable expression on his face as the flames caught and spread. Sam was detached while he watched the flames lick across the overly starched fabric. 

While they stood there waiting, Sam realized that they would be leaving town now, so it wouldn’t matter if he finished reading for his science homework later that night. Dean was crying softly beside him, and Sam moved to put his hand on his brother’s arm, but Dean shifted slightly away from him at the motion. 

Sam’s skin was buzzing with pent up adrenaline; he had never felt more alive. It was as if he had lived his entire life under water and he had finally been let up for air. There was a thrilling sense of freedom, Sam could hardly wrap his head around all the possibilities that lay before them. They could go anywhere, do anything. Be together. If Dean would ever touch him again. 

Once the bodies were mostly burned and the fire was still raging, they turned and walked back toward the Impala. There was no reason for them to go back to the motel, so they drove over the nearest state line and kept driving until Dean was too exhausted to go any farther. He refused to let Sam drive, even though he had his learner’s permit, and had started to fall asleep at the wheel. They checked into a motel just outside of the next town after Dean had swerved into oncoming traffic.

As soon as they got their room Dean made a beeline to the bathroom and shut the door. Sam busied himself sorting through their bags, separating their dirty clothes from clean clothes, planning out a trip to the laundromat the next day. He noticed that there was only the one bed, which he thought was strange, but he felt good about it. He also thought about getting food, they hadn’t eaten since before that girl had come over the their room. 

“Hey, Dean?” Sam was greeted by silence. “I’m going to go get some food.” Nothing. “Do you want anything?” If silence were deafening, Sam would need to learn ASL. 

Sam grabbed their dad’s wallet from his old duffel and the car keys, then left the room in search of food. He made it a few blocks down the road and saw the lights of some places that were still open. He pulled into a convenience station and grabbed a burger for Dean, a hot dog for himself, a few bags of chips, and some sodas. The clerk gave him a look when he put everything down at the counter and Sam shot him his most innocent smile. The man rang him up without saying anything, took the money from Sam, then went back to watching whatever was on the small TV behind the counter. 

When Sam got back to the motel room Dean was sitting on the bed, head back, eyes closed, and their dad’s bottle of Jack, open, between his bowed legs. His hair was wet and he was only wearing his boxer briefs, the TV playing porn softly in the background. Sam let himself enjoy the view of all his brother’s skin on display before speaking. 

“I’ve got some food. It’s not much, but it’ll do for tonight.”

Dean arched his eyebrow, then looked at Sam. There seemed to be some sort of conflict Dean was having with himself. Sam could see it in his eyes; rage, confusion, heartbreak, and something else. Sam carried the bag over to the bed and sat at Dean’s feet. He handed the burger over, then unloaded the chips before grabbing and unwrapping his hot dog. They ate in silence, neither of them making a sound, listening to the overacted sex on the TV; at least Dean wasn’t actively avoiding him anymore. Sam felt like something had shifted, Dean almost seemed resolved. 

Sam finished eating first and went to take a shower. He set the water on to warm up while he got undressed and found the bottle of cheap shampoo and his face wash from their toiletries bag, setting the items on the edge of the tub. He flipped the tab to turn the shower on and stepped under the spray, letting the warmth flood through him. He hadn’t realized how cold he had been. He stood under the water, letting the droplets take away all the drama from the last sixteen hours. 

Dean had turned the volume up on the TV and Sam could hear the moaning of the woman, and occasionally the grunting of the man fucking her. Sam began to wash his body, then started to think about Dean fucking that slut, how she had screamed for him, how he must have looked fucking her, choking her. His dick was aching by the time he made his way down to wash himself, so with his soapy hands he gripped himself tight and began to stroke. 

He pictured Dean’s fingers wrapped tight around the girl’s throat, his dick pounding into her as she struggled to fight him off. He imagined the faces they were making, how she would have gone from turned on to utter panic when she realized that Dean wasn’t just being kinky, how smug Dean would have been when she caught on that he was going to kill her. In his mind’s eye Dean smirked right before he came and Sam came with him with a small grunt.

Sam finished washing himself and rinsed off. He ran the towel over his hair, then slung it around his waist before leaving the bathroom. The image that greeted him when he stepped through the door made him freeze in his tracks. Dean had his boxers around his ankles and his knees spread wide, his hand quickly jerking his leaking cock; his head thrown back and eyes screwed shut as he listened to the couple still going at it on the small screen. Unable to find it in himself to interrupt his brother’s ministrations, Sam walked over to his duffel and found a clean pair of his own underwear. He patted some of the excess water off himself and slipped his legs into the briefs. The blood rushing back down to his own cock made tucking himself into his underwear a little more difficult than it should have been. 

“Sammy?”

His cock jumped at hearing his name in his brother’s wrecked voice. He spun on his heel to face him, and found Dean staring at him, still stroking himself, but not as urgently as he had been before. Sam dropped his towel and walked to the foot of the bed.

“Yeah, big brother?” Sam’s voice almost got stuck in his throat and he cracked a bit at the end of the last word.

“Wanna join in? For old time’s sake?” Dean tilted his head to the other side of the bed, inviting Sam to join him.

It wouldn’t be the first time they had sat side by side and jerked off to crappy motel TV porn. Something about this time felt different. There was no threat of their dad coming back early and catching them, there was no one who knew where they were, no one to know what may come next. Sam’s stomach did a flip as he hooked his thumbs into his waistband and pulled his briefs back off, his cock fully hard again. 

He sat at the other side of the bed and splayed his legs out, situating his hips to make himself more comfortable. He pushed his hand down and began to tease himself, avoiding his cock and massaging his balls, grinding his hips. 

“That’s it, baby brother.” Dean didn’t usually talk to him in these situations, but the sound of his voice while Sam was touching himself this way make him groan with want. “Use your other hand, grab yourself.” 

Sam obeyed, using his other hand to wrap around his cock, and gently began stroking himself. Since he had recently come, he took his time stoking the fire, letting it simmer and build. He chanced a look over at Dean, and Dean’s eyes were glued to his hands on his cock.

“That’s it, baby boy,” Dean growled at him, “work yourself nice and good for me.”

A startled moan escaped Sam’s lips and he instantly flushed, embarrassed by the breathy sound of his voice, “Touch me, De.” Sam’s voice was a whisper.

Dean groaned beside him as he worked his hands faster on his own cock. Sam watched as his brother’s abs flexed and his hips rolled. His long fingers curved easily around his thick cock, and effortlessly worked their way over the taut skin. Sam imagined what those fingers must have looked like stretched under that slut’s chin as he choked the life out of her. He felt the familiar tightening in his stomach, but he didn’t want this to be over so soon. 

Sam cocked his right leg out, closer to his brother, and worked his right hand down under his balls and started teasing his asshole. He had never done that in front of anyone before, and the fact it was his own big brother laid our beside him, made him all the more eager to do it. Sam moaned again then saw Dean shift to look in his direction.

“Damn, Sammy.” Dean had his bottom lip tucked between his teeth when Sam turned to face him. Sam made eye contact with him and opened his mouth to moan again as he applied more pressure to his hole. Dean gripped the base of his cock then breathed, “you’re killing me Sammy.”

“Touch me, De,” Sam repeated. 

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, “I can’t.” He began stroking himself again, hard long strokes, while his left hand gripped the sheets between them tight.

“Yes you can, I’m begging you. _Please_ , just touch me.”

Dean’s hips jerked and he released a gasp as he came on his hand, spurts arching up to his chest. His hand gently made its way up and down a couple more times, pulling the last of his release from him before he stopped. Sam was still working himself as he watched Dean finish himself off, staring at him while he came down from his endorphin high. 

Sam made a noise and Dean, seeming to remember that he was there, rolled over to face him. “‘M not going to touch you, Sammy. Get yourself off for me.”

Sam felt the pressure build behind his eyes, but anger won out and he bit his lip turning his head away from his brother. Removing his fingers from his ass, Sam repositioned his legs and began massaging his balls again, stroking his cock in earnest. This time when he felt the pull in his gut he just pushed harder, he twisted his wrist the way he liked and squeezed just a little harder as he stroked faster. In no time he was arching his back, hot come shooting across his chest and stomach. 

“Yes, baby boy.”

Sam didn’t let himself come down, or relax at all, he turned the rest of the way away from Dean, rolling off the bed. Once he got into the bathroom he tried, unsuccessfully, to not slam the door. He snatched a washcloth from the shelf on the wall and ran the sink to get it warm. Once he cleaned himself up he walked back out into the room and threw the used, wet rag at his brother.

“Wipe yourself off before you stink up the room.” Sam didn’t bother grabbing his underwear before sliding under the covers, as close to the edge of the bed as possible, and slamming his head down on the pillow. 

“What crawled up your ass, little brother?”

_Not you_ , Sam thought, then realized he was acting like a petulant child and he let out a breath. “Nothing.”

He felt Dean toss the rag over him toward the bathroom, then settle under the covers, and roll over facing away from him. As he laid there he realized that Dean hadn’t touched him since he had shoved him out of that motel room the day before. Not even while they were building the pyre or wrapping the bodies, the last live person Dean had touched was that cunt he choked the life out of. Sam ached to squirm closer to his big brother, to wrap himself around him while they slept, but he just stayed, cold and unmoving, on his side of the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't be shy, let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't be shy, let me know what you think!


End file.
